The Fear
by TheStrangeBelief
Summary: The Lestranges encounter a boggart...


_A/N: kind of creepy, darkfic...read, review_

_(Rodolphus was the first to see it.)_

Her body lay crumpled on the floor, limbs akimbo. Loopy black ringlets splayed across her pale face, and eyes, hard as obsidian, half-closed, with those feather duster eyelashes caked with mascara and blood. Her lips, once red as wine, looked like a pale, wilted rosebud on an even whiter face. The long, swan-like white column of her neck led to a pair of sturdy shoulders, topped by the thin black straps of a party dress. She could have been sleeping, if not for the jagged, dark hole where her heart was supposed to be, dripping blood all over the freshly waxed floor, and her left arm. Her other hand clutched the slick, bloody heart in a death-grip, coated with visceral crimson. She was Bellatrix, and she was, to all appearances, dead.

"_R-riddikulus."_ A dark-haired man stood besides the corpse, his wand gripped in unsteady, shaking hands. His right hand clenched and unclenched in his pocket, knuckles white and numb.

_Crack._

The lovely, broken corpse of Bellatrix Black-Lestrange was replaced by the much smaller, and frailer body of Rabastan Lestrange.

"Oh, Merlin…_Rab_…" A fist was hurriedly thrust into his mouth to prevent the ascending of his breakfast as he gazed onto his brother's supposed corpse.

His eyes were open, those blue, blue eyes, staring blank and lifelessly at him, and a trickle of blood ran down his colorless lips. His throat was a bloody mess of slashed flesh, pink muscle, and puddles of half-dried blood.

Rodolphus Lestrange, killer of Geraldine McKinnon, and little David McKinnon, turned around and fled the ballroom, slamming the cabinet door shut behind him.

The boggart rattled inside, unhappy to be trapped once more.

_(Rabastan was the second one to see it.)_

The door of Lestrange Manor flew open, and Bellatrix and Rabastan barreled into the front hall, arms loaded with shopping bags and cheeks red from the ruddy cold outside. They set down their purchases by the coat-rack, and set off toward their respective rooms. He crossed the clean ballroom, with its ornate chandelier and mirrored walls, when he heard the rattling from the cabinet. Curious, he started toward it, and unlatched the door.

The maggoty corpse of Marlene McKinnon, wide hazel eyes accusing and malevolent, clawed its way out of the cabinet, and toward Rabastan.

Somewhere, inside of him, a voice in his head was telling him, insistently, that it _was just a boggart, _and to hurry up and cast the charm, but that all-consuming fear, _great and terrible, _far overweighed all his other senses, leaving him rooted to the floor as Marlene crawled toward him.

Then, triggered by natural human instincts when faced with something frightening, he started to scream.

_(Bellatrix was the last one to see it, and the one to get rid of it.)_

A scream split the quiet air of Lestrange Manor, and Bellatrix Black-Lestrange looked up from her paperback book, intrigued. It was probably just Rabastan, waking up from another nightmare—but yet, you could never be sure in times like this…

Armed with her wand, she crept down the stairs, and stopped short, eyes disbelieving for a split second, at the sight of a screaming Rabastan, eyes bugging out of his head, and the supposedly rotting corpse of Marlene McKinnon clawing its way toward him. Then she remembered Rodolphus mentioning something the other day about a boggart in one of the cabinets, and strode forward, in quick strides.

"It's just a boggart, silly Rab," she murmured, quietly, before going to stand in front of Rabastan.

The boggart was quick to focus its attention on the newcomer, and in a split second, shifted into the crumpled, dead body of the Dark Lord. She froze, hands shaking, before unsteadily saying, "_Riddikulus…"_

_Crack. _Dead Narcissa, white-blonde hair matted with blood.

This time, louder, _"Riddikulus!"_

_Crack._ Dead Rodolphus and Rabastan, their bodies piled up on top of each other.

"_RIDDIKULUS!" _

The image faltered, and finally disappeared, in a puff of silvery smoke.

Bellatrix heaved a sigh of relief, and gathering an unconscious Rabastan into her arms, went back upstairs, trying to ignore the cold chill of fear down her spine.

====FIN====


End file.
